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peachysunrize · 2 days

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The Ballad of a Dragon ⥃ Modern!Aemond Targaryen

Summary: after an argument with your husband, you find him playing his frustration away and eventually apologizes to you on top of his piano.

Warnings: 18+ mdni! Smut, angst, fluff, p in v, oral(F!receiving) fingering, Aemond eats pussy like a champ, both parties are so petty, post argument/make up sex, hand kink, body worship, Aemond knows how to work with those fingers, he plays piano👀 tell me if I’ve missed something. English isn’t my first language<3 no beta...

Word count: 3.15k+

A/n: so this pure filth is based on this post, and @barbieaemond motivated me to write it! So thank you, my love, and thanks to Aemond’s long fingers for being a great inspiration to write a hand kink fic. I’m also taking a little break from writing for a month or so<3

“You just came home, Aemond! We had a reservation for tonight that you missed, you arrived at midnight from work and now you are taking a call to go and fix Rhaenyra’s stupid mistakes again?” You groan, pacing around your bedroom with Aemond burying his face in his hands, sitting on the bed in front of you.

“I can’t just turn a blind eye to them when they need help!” He explains, raising his voice a little. He is frustrated beyond words; work has been hectic lately and the company’s responsibility has fallen on his shoulders, forcing him to carry the weight alone.

“You’re already half blind, it wouldn’t hurt to close your other eye and ignore them for once!” You know you shouldn’t have said that, but you’re fed up with all the negligence, nights staying up just for him to either sleep in his office or crawl into bed at four in the morning.

It isn’t his fault mostly, it’s the pressure his father, siblings, and Otto put on him, but you wish he would say something and stand up for himself.

“That was a very low blow, wife,” he says through gritted teeth, glaring at you as he puts his elbows on his knees, “I can’t let her mess up everything we have worked so hard for! This company will be ruined if I don’t fix Rhaenyra’s fuck ups!”

“It’s not your responsibility, Aemond! It’s hers! It’s her mistake, it’s her fucking fault! I shouldn’t be begging my husband to make time for me, his wife, and spend some time home! You reserved the table, you told me to get ready because you wanted to take me out on a date! I’m just glad I didn’t go to the restaurant myself or tomorrow’s headlines would have been worse for your reputation than Rhaenyra’s mistake can ever be.”

“My work is my priority! This is my family’s business, do you know what that is? Family? Because by the way you’re acting, I’m not quite sure you have the slightest idea.” He stands up as well, running his fingers through his hair as each word falls from his lips and you feel the sting of each one in your chest.

“I can’t believe you, Aemond. How can your work be any more important than your wife?! How? I get it, you’re this tough guy, knight in shining armor always trying to get on your father’s good side and want his praises. I get it, you’re desperate for his affection. But what about me? I spent hours getting ready for my husband, just for you to treat me like trash! I left my family because of you, Aemond, and I would do it a thousand times more because I love you. Although I can’t say the same about you.” You know it was a pathetic move to get a rise out of him, but after what he said, it’s only fair to treat him just as he is treating you.

Tears sting your eyes as you look at how red he has gotten, knowing that you’ve woken up the hot-tempered dragon inside him. Good, he needs to feel ashamed and angry for how small he made you feel with each mean word that he said.

“You think I don’t love you anymore?” He asks, his voice barely above whispering, but you hear him perfectly and see how rapidly his chest is moving with the deep breaths he is trying to take.

“No, but I can’t deny that I’m doubting it. You put work over the family we created together, over your wife, and you want me to accept it without complaining, without telling you how much I miss you and how it hurts to be apart from you while you constantly choose your work over me!” You sob, putting your hands on your hips as you turn away from him. Even the sight of him makes your heart clench.

“I’m working my ass off for you to be content with your life, to have enough money to waste on petty and unnecessary stuff—“

“Don’t you dare guilt trap me, Aemond Targaryen! Don’t you fucking dare make me feel bad for wanting to spend time with my husband!” You nearly scream at him, tears now falling freely from your eyes as you turn around to look at him.

Even at this moment, he looks so beautiful — silver hair shining under the dim light of the room, his white shirt unbuttoned a little and his sleeves rolled up, showing off his toned forearms. If you weren’t so mad at him, you would have jumped on him the second he walked through that door.

“I can not control my siblings! They are idiots, sure but do you have any idea how bad their actions can destroy everything we have worked so hard for? I need to go because my father called.” he tries to reach for you, but you pull your hand away from him, taking a step back because you can’t bear him trying to sweet talk his way out of this like he always does. You shouldn’t let him minimize your feelings.

“Your father or Otto? Did he say if you save Rhaenyra’s ass, you would become Viserys Targaryen’s favorite child? It looks as if his affection is worth more than our marriage.”

“Stop with this nonsense, you know it’s not!” he glares at you, his pupil blown with rage. How could you ever think like that? Did he truly drive himself away from you to the point that you doubted his love for you?

“Do I, Aemond? Do I? Because instead of apologizing to me you are telling me how your work was more important than not showing up for a date you organized! I felt so beautiful, Aemond, so happy that after such a long time my husband was going to come to pick me up and spend the night with me! Now I just… I just feel so fucking stupid for getting my hopes high.”

You watch him take a deep breath, shaking his head as he marches out of the room swiftly, not bothering to spare a glance at you. He is frustrated, you get it, but to leave in the middle of an important argument like a child being denied a candy is pretty immature of him.

You sigh and wipe your tears, walking towards your wardrobe to pull out one of your sheer nightgowns, changing into it to sleep in something comfortable while your husband's side of the bed gets colder by the second.

The sound of music fills the house gradually, taking you by surprise. The last thing you expect is to hear your husband’s favorite classical piano piece echoing within the walls, and you halt in your steps, guilt creeping inside your chest as you listen to the distant sound of the piano before you grab your robe and walk toward the playroom.

You find the door open already — the orange hue of the lights illuminates his silver hair and sharp jawline, his eye is closed while his fingers move in rhythm, each finger pressing the right note on the tempo, and you can see the frustration and tension leaving his shoulders the longer he plays.

Nocturne in C-sharp minor fills the air around you, and you remember how he played this the first time the two of you met; it was filled with so much laughter and excitement as he gushed about his love for classical pieces, how hard he tried to regain his posture and strength while he lost half of his eyesight. You guess you fell in love with him at that very second he sat behind the piano in the instrumental shop.

Your gaze falls on his hand, long denty fingers moving with grace, pressing the keys one by one, and you lean on the doorframe, fidgeting with the hem of your robe while you rub your thighs together, the images of how those same fingers have given you the most blissful orgasms ever flooding your mind.

You watch him pushing the pedals down, his eye following the path of the notes he has memorized on the keys, and you keep admiring his ethereal form. Sometimes it feels unbelievable to be the wife of such a beautiful and otherworldly man, to be this lucky to call yourself Mrs. Targaryen, yet, there are moments you recall how everyone told you that the same name comes with a curse, that Targaryen men are ambitious and cunning. They are right on both matters.

The slickness between your thighs gets worse the more you stare at him and his skillful fingers move as if this is the easiest piece known to mankind with how smoothly he is playing it.

He plays the last note, sighing softly as he retrieves his fingers from the keys, turning around to look at you with an easy smile on his thin lips.

“Thought you had left before I heard you playing,” you say, matching his smile, growing a bit nervous with how his eye drinks the sight of your exposed thighs.

“I had half a mind to do so,” he replies, extending his hand to show he wants you close, “C’mere,”

You push away from the doorframe, walking to where he is sitting before trailing your hand over his extended arm, his large palms coming to rest on your waist. He looks up at you, fingers gently massaging your back.

“I’m sorry, I…”

He shushes you, pressing a kiss to your stomach before placing his chin on the soft flesh, “I should apologize. I didn’t realize how terrible I was treating you. You are my priority, I should have treated you much better.”

“I…I was in the wrong too. It was very pathetic of me to act so desperately, I know how much your work means to you—“

“No, no,” he stands up, caging you between his body and the piano, forcing you to sit a bit on the keys, a not-so-great sound coming out of the instrument, “You aren’t desperate, and even if you are, you do have a great excuse for it. I neglected you for a job that can be done by anyone.”

“It was a petty argument anyway, I’m sorry for being mean. I miss you so much, that’s all,” you say, gasping when he picks you up so effortlessly by the back of your thighs, putting you on top of his royal piano before he takes home between your legs.

“I miss you too, sweetheart,” he whispers, leaning down to peck the corner of your lips, “I could see how truly desperate you were when you rubbed your pretty thighs together.”

“Y-you saw that?” You exhale, craning your neck to give him more space to attack the skin of your neck, littering his little bruises and bites all over you.

“I know my wife, I know her weaknesses. I could smell you from here, and I’m sure if I were to touch you down there…” he locks his eye with yours, one of his hands traveling down towards your panties, chuckling darkly, “my my, so wet and I haven’t even touched you yet.”

He brings his fingers to his mouth, licking your essence off them while he holds eye contact, watching how your lips part in desire as you keep your gaze fixed on his lips and tongue.

“Lay down, I need to apologize to my wife properly,” he pulls the strings of your robe, dropping the fabric on the floor, revealing the sheer fabric to his hungry eye, “I’m an idiot for taking you for granted. Fuck, baby, you look so delicious.”

You pant as his words go straight to your core, heat filling your belly and your wetness oozing out of you slowly. He puts his palm on your chest, gently pushing you back on the cold surface of the piano before he spreads your legs properly, humming as his good eye finds your glistening cunt.

He kisses your knee before pulling his chair closer and sit on it, his tall body giving him the advantage of coming to the same height as your body. Aemond preps your inner thighs with kisses, marking his territory with each nibble and bite which are rewarded by gasps and whimpers from you ever here and there.

He kisses your navel sweetly, nuzzling his head into your hand when you reach down to smooth a few wandering strands of his hair out of his face. You keep him close when he finally, after who knows how long, gives into his urges and attaches his lips to your buzzing clit, moaning as your sweet nectar finally roots its taste onto his tongue.

He is starved, and you realize soon with how he keeps his face buried into your cunt, tongue flickering over the bundle of nerves, teeth sinking into your flesh a little. He doesn’t seem to care about how messy he is eating you out, he has set his goal of making you at least come on his tongue twice tonight.

“Aemond!” your moans fill the room, back arching off the piano as he keeps you down by his hands on your hips, the tip of his tongue collecting your wetness happily while you writhe beneath him, feeling the knot in your belly tightening by the second.

He knows you like the back of his hand, so he speeds up a little, focusing on sucking and licking your clit while you buck your hips to his face. He loves how desperate you are for him, all laid out and pretty and ready to come just for him.

“Fuck, love, I’m—” You throw your head back, tangling your fingers through his hair before you explode on his tongue, whines of pleasure making him dizzy. He keeps flickering his tongue until you stop twitching and push his face away from your swollen pussy.

He grins at your breathless form, caressing your thighs as he stands up and kisses a path from your lower belly up to your lips over your nightgown before he pulls you in a searing kiss, letting you taste yourself on his pink bruised lips.

“I could feast on you all day, sweetheart. I should write a ballad in honor of your pretty cunt,” “You are unbelievable!” You giggle, leaning on your elbows to kiss him again, moving until you are at the edge with your husband between your legs, “You said twice, why are you still up here?” You whisper against his lips.

“I saw how you looked at my hands earlier. I think it would be only fair to make sure you forgive me if I fuck you with my fingers, hmm? You love them, I’m sure they can be convincing enough.”

You nod, words failing to come out of your mouth when he pushes the strands of your nightgown down your shoulders, the chilly air of the room hitting your bare breasts. He leans down to kiss the top of your chest, writing the ballad he promised with his lips over your skin.

His hand moves down where he was a few minutes ago, long digits rubbing between your soaked folds slowly. He makes sure you aren’t as sensitive as you were before he pushes one finger in, keeping you close to him with a hand on your back while the other works his finger in and out of you, drowning your moans with passionate kisses.

He adds another one, curving his fingers inside you slightly as he pushes them deeper, reaching your sweet spots effortlessly with how skilled and long his fingers are — courtesy of practicing piano from a young age.

“Aemond, fuck—please!” your desperate whine adds fuel to the fire starting inside him, and he compiles, fucking you faster with his hand while the rock of his palm rubs your clit with just the right amount of pressure.

You fall apart again easily, gasping as your thighs start shaking with how good he makes you come, lips forming into an O-shape while he keeps his pace up, making sure that you ride your high gracefully before he pulls you in for another rough kiss, his tongue invading your mouth quickly.

“I need you so much, sweetheart,” he says, unbuckling his belt before he pushes his pants and boxers down enough to pull out his weeping cock, “let me have you, baby, please.” “Yes, yes I need you too. It’s been so so long, Aem,” you reach to stroke him gently, scooting closer to him so he can pull you down a little, keeping you tucked between his firm body and piano while somehow holding you up by his large palms under your ass.

You guide him toward your entrance, gasping in union as soon as the fat tip of his cock breaches past your ring of muscles before he pushes himself deep inside you until there is none to take.

You cling to his shoulders as soon as he settles inside your cunt, his hot breath fanning on your face as he gets adjusted to your warmth. It’s been too long for both of you, but he makes a promise to not make the same mistake again, ever.

“Fuck, love, I missed you so much,” he groans in your ear as he starts thrusting up into you, the angle making him reach the deepest part of your pussy easily.

“Me too, baby…” you gasp, hips snapping into his as he goes faster, less patient and ready to devour you thoroughly. You take what he gives you, deep hard strokes that rock your world and leave you breathless and a moaning mess. He relishes every sound that falls from your lips, thinking to himself how no classical piece can ever come close to how beautiful you sound when he pleasures you, and he silently beats himself for neglecting you so much.

He is close, embarrassingly fast and he can feel you tightening around his girth with each thrust. Aemond hides his face in your neck, quickening his pace as he fucks you roughly, pulling screams of ecstasy out of you with ease.

“Come inside me,” you bite his earlobe, your breasts rubbing against his covered chest as you lean upward a little, “I need you, please, husband.”

“Then come with me, come now so I can give my girl what she wants,” he replies, snapping his hips faster into yours until you crumble in his arms, gushing around his cock a few seconds before he follows you, keeping his hips still as he pumps you full of his warm cum, your name falling from his lips like a prayer.

“Don’t you dare put us through that again, Aem, do you hear me?” you ask him, kissing the side of his face lovingly.

“I’d rather die than upset you again, beloved.”

#aemond targaryen #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen angst #aemond fanfiction #modern aemond #aemond targaryen smut #modern aemond targaryen #rue:smut #rue:angst

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that-nerd-who-writes-fanfiction · 2 days

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I love the idea that Merlin adopted wild animals while he lived in Ealdor.

Everything is the same up until everyone goes to Ealdor in The Moment of Truth episode and Hunith has more animals around the house. Arthur is baffled when he sees and looks to Merlin for an explanation, but Merlin is just petting a raven on his shoulder asking if it missed him.

Hunith sighs and tells him his animals are all well. Arthur is just confused, so are Morgana and Gwen, but they’re going with it better than Arthur.

Hunith explains to a baffled Arthur that Merlin has a habit of adopting wild animals and says that he only started hiding them when she asked him to stop so it was easier to let him do what he wants so he’s open about it.

She’s telling Arthur that Merlin has:

There’s three rabbits Merlin keeps in a small fenced off bit of the garden, he found them as babies after Will killed their parents so he raised them.

An owl that lives on the roof, he found it with a broken wing and nursed it back to health then it just never left. It occasionally flies down to the window and keeps Hunith company while she’s in the house.

He keeps bees behind the house because the tree they had their hive on got cut down for firewood and he felt bad.

Two squirrels stop by every morning, they’re keeping a store of acorns in Hunith’s herb garden after Merlin started feeding them when they were young.

There’s a raven who Merlin trained to bring Hunith a flower a day in his absence after he found an egg and decided to try and hatch it.

She doesn’t finish the list, but it’s at that point that four wolves charge full speed at them, Arthur grabs his sword but Merlin drops to the ground and starts cuddling them like they’re puppies and asking in a baby voice if they missed him and if they’ve been good while he was away.

All the animals are fully self sufficient, they don’t add any work for Hunith so she’s happy to have them around for Merlin.

Morgana is having the time of her life and asks if she can pet the wolves, Gwen takes a liking to the raven who gives her flowers too. Arthur feels like he’s going insane but the owl seems to like perching on his shoulder while he’s sat by the fire in the evenings.

So most of the episode is the same, but when they get back to Camelot, Arthur tells Merlin he’s in charge of looking after his dogs and horses. Merlin grins and seems happier for it in the long run.

At some point after they return, Merlin starts adopting animals in Camelot too.

It starts small with a robin or something he found and rescued on a hunt, but he starts getting more and more animals. Arthur orders Gaius to let him do it, remembering what Hunith said about if Merlin wasn’t allowed he’d just do it anyway but in secret.

He then starts finding birds or rabbits in Merlin’s chambers, he draws the line at the snake but Merlin reluctantly agrees that’s fair since it was curled up in one of Arthur’s shoes that he took to polish over night.

Eventually Uther asks Arthur about it, but all he can say is “I don’t want to find him hiding squirrel houses in my chambers, so it’s better to just let him do it. At least he tells me when he’s adopted something this way.”

Then Merlin bursts in with a baby deer in his arms, saying “Arthur, I need a favour.”

#feral merlin #bbc merlin #merlin #merlin emrys #arthur pendragon #guinevere #morgana pendragon #good morgana #merlin bbc #headcanon #merlin fic idea #merthur #i’m bad at tagging #animals #fic ideas #crack fic

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catiuskaa · 3 days

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charcoal, paint, post-its and tape.

SUMMARY: seeing your boyfriend’s messy art studio, you couldn’t help but want to try and surprise him with a painting of the most gorgeous piece of art you knew: him.

REQUESTED! here by my pookie wookie @4ln-stay8, and honey, this was a beautiful idea! i love writing about art and hyunjin and hyunjin and art (and hyunjin) lol, hope you like! <3

CW: hurt/comfort, mentions of anxiety, reader is really hard on herself as a perfectionist (which sadly i can relate), crying and cursing, lots of fluffy comfort in the end!

WC: 1.6k

[☆🌷🖼️🌷☆]

You hate it.

Your hand feels cramped, your head hurts and you’re close to breaking the paper if you keep on erasing the same lines over and over again.

But it’s hideous.

It’s a sad excuse of an attempt in art and you hate it.

You were tempted to kick the sketchbook away, but knowing that it belonged to your boyfriend, to hyunjin, who could actually do art, made you refrain from doing so, opting to just harshly shove it away from your lap.

It wasn’t fair. You’d seen tutorials. You had practiced beforehand. You went as far as to use his anatomy books to study it, wanting to be able to do justice to his ethereal, beautiful self by at least getting proportions right.

But no. Art wasn’t accepting your preposterous attempt to join into it.

Hyunjin entered your shared apartment as he hummed a random melody, happy to come back a bit earlier than usual, his head drifting off to how he could surprise you and what kind of activity the both of you could do with the newly-founded time.

But he froze after he kicked his shoes off at the entrance.

“Angel?” He called, and you cursed, but barely had any time to put anything back into place as he followed the sound of your gentle sobs.

“Hyun…” you started.

“My love.” He crouched down next to you, looking at you as if you held the stars and the moon just for him. “Want to tell me what’s wrong? Mhh?” He hummed shortly, his hands traveling to your face and stroking it sweetly.

You stared at him, your heart troubled, so the only coherent response you could come up was throwing yourself to his arms.

The long-haired artist hugged you tightly in response, a part of him appreciating having the type of trust that allowed you to break before him and let him watch you reasemble with a little helping hand.

You sniffed, then shook your head sideways.

“Are we doing the nod and shake?” He smiled in efforts of making you join him, which you did shortly, and he allowed himself to take that as a win. “We can do that, pretty. Nod if you want to.” He snickered.

But you shook your head, staring down at the forgotten sketchbook.

“I-it’s just th-a-at I… I w-wanted… wanted to surprise you… b-because I-I wa-s trying to paint…”

Hyunjin’s face shined upon your confesion.

“My pretty girl was painting?” He chimed back with a gleeful joy. “But you’re not having fun. What happened?”

You just shrugged, sinking your head in your hands. “It’s horrible.”

“Can I see it?”

Watching you nod, it was only then when Hyunjin separated himself from you just enough to grab the sketch, then sprung back to your side.

A silence only broken by your unsteady breathing clouded the house as he viewed the canvas.

“Do you want my opinion, my advice, or my shoulder to keep crying?” He offered soothingly, and you rolled your eyes at his last mention. “What? My shoulders are very comfortable. I don’t even charge if you leave tears on my shirt, you know.” Hyunjin teased with a smile that you were quick to match. Another win for him.

“I just… I don’t know…” you sighed, melting against him. “It’s… ugh.”

He stared at your piece in silence, which you didn’t, only zoned out, playing with your hands as the silence crept up your spine.

What if he hated it too?

“It’s just like how you do with your post-its.”

He interrupted your spiral of thoughts, and you blinked at him, so Hyunjin repeated himself with a gentle smile. You then sniffed, a small chuckle fighting to get out in the midst of frustated tears. “What are you on about?”

“You have your cute organizing board filled with post it notes, don’t you, lovely?”

You nodded, but scoffed, still submerged in the depth of the painting —or rather lack thereof. “What’s that got to do with anyth-“

You trailed off when his hands, still a bit colder from the weather outside, cradled your face, forcing you to look at him, a beautiful sight you didn’t notice you were evading.

“Listen to me for a second. Please?” He pleaded, eyes soft, and giggled sweetly when you pouted, a petty way of letting him know you were listening. You blushed when he kissed you.

“So. Your post it notes.” Hyunjin smiled. “You stick them on the board, but often, they slip down, right?” He asked, to which you nodded. “And when that happens, I noticed your little trick, brains.” He booped your nose, and you couldn’t help but smile coyly. “Tell me, beauty. What do you do when they don’t stick?”

“I… I put a small piece of tape on the back.” “And it works like magic,” he grinned, beaming in a kind of proudness you had never seen on anyone, not when it came from others aside from themselves. And it mended your frustrated heart to see him like this, his now warmer hands stroking your cheeks.

He took one of your hands, and with a strained groan, reached to his pencil cade, grabbed a piece of charcoal and stained your hand with it, kissing your palm sweetly

“These are now the hands of an artist. And artists, just like you and me, can be quite like those little post it notes of yours. We bend right after taking us out of the package.” He chuckled, and you followed along, letting the sound of his voice lift your spirit. “It won’t matter how, there can always be a crease, or the glue won’t stick right, or the color is too blinding, maybe too dull, perhaps the paper got stained with paint or ink.” He stared at you, deeply so, allowing you to see through him, allowing you to understand.

This wasn’t about post it notes. Not anymore.

He continued. “But, just as your post its, sometimes…” he smiled. “Sometimes all we need is a bit of tape to stick in place.”

He kissed your tears away one by one, allowing your breathing to even out, matching and following his as you relaxed against him.

“Let me help you stick back on the board.” He looked at your lips in a flash, then bashfully went back to your eyes. “Let me be your tape.”

He hugged you tightly, and he showed you the sketch.

“To me it looks fine, beauty.” He started. “It’s a really nice attempt. Would I redo some things? Probably, if I wanted to be really perfectionist, because it doesn’t look bad at all. Or maybe I’d let the color do its magic.” He shrugged nonchalantly. “The thing about drawing is that we cannot let it control us, hoping to achieve perfection. That can’t be achieved, my love.” Hyunjin laughed. “Even what we see sometimes doesn’t look right in real life. There are references and references, and if a drawing’s sketch isn’t quite what we’re looking, sometimes we may need another one.”

You stared at him softly, comforted in his honest commentary.

“I can help you. You know were to find me.” He smiled sweetly.

“I…” you sniffed, staring at your charcoal-stained hand.

“I just want a coffee right now.”

You both giggled as you stood back up, and he engulfed you in a bear hug, picking you up and carrying you to the kitchen, determined to make you the best coffe in the whole year.

It wasn’t until the next morning that you found him puting your first sketch next to his. Only this time, instead of his usual messy tape lines, yours han bits of tape glued to the back.

Little by little, charcoal and paint helped post-its and tape, but even with the smallest things, it could certainly be the other way around.

And Hyunjin loved it any kind of way— Hyunjin loved you, post-its, charcoal stains and all.

[☆🌷🖼️🌷☆]

catiuskaa, may 2024 ©

~kats, who will now go to bed with my own cup of hot milk (not coffee lol, and sadly not made by hyunjin either)

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squerlly · 3 days

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Fair Exchange Chapter 5

------"some silences can scream louder than words ever could"--------

Alastor x (F! wife doe reader)

The Doe-----------------------------------------------------

It was later in the morning when Charlie wanted us to do a show and tell day, we all reluctantly agreed but Alastor stayed behind to eat his breakfast. it was Angel's turn claiming he wanted to show us his "best film." I figured it was a movie or play but... it was a porn video...

I tried to keep my eyes away, swiping invisible dust from my dress attempting to stay distracted. Husk eventually jumps in arguing with Angel "Everybody likes to bitch to the bartender! I know everything about you and these motherfuckers" he points at Pentious "That one's an insecure buffoon who watches you all sleep at night" he then points to Charlie and vaggie and then me "that one's constantly taking bullets from everybody because she's a pushover and nifty, tch you don't even wanna know what her deal is." I'm not a pushover...

the argument is short-lived when Angel gets a call from his boss calling him in for work, talking about some emergency shoot and storming out.

Charlie wanted to go and help get Angel some time off of work by talking to his boss, I would have gone with her but I know Alastor wouldn't be too happy if I was out in the Vees district without him. seeing as how our last visit went I don't think it would be a good idea.

Charlie left and I went back upstairs to Alastors room to pick up his dishes, knocking on the door "Alastor? may I come in" There was a long pause before the door opened, Alastors shadow giving me a grin as he stepped aside to let me in. I don't really see Alastor's shadow that often considering he only uses it for scouting, investigating, or fetching things when I'm not available.

however, when I stumble upon his shadow, it stares at me with that same evil grin. from what I have gathered over the years, the shadow is just an extension of Alastor, mimicking his personality and actions. Sometimes, if you look closely, it can display his emotions with its cold black body and inky blue tongue. It's more curious than Alastor, peering around people's shoulders and poking through others business. I never seemed to mind it.

there's something different this time, it's acting off. usually, it just pokes around and then returns to Alastor but not this time. No, it's staring at me, watching me, almost like it's inspecting me... I try to ignore it, walking over to pick up Alastors dish "Thank you my dear" "of course, is there anything else you need?" "no, your free to enjoy the rest of your morning"

I turn to leave but then remember something "Oh I almost forgot, do you mind if I grab a book from your shelf, I finished my other two.." not looking up from his desk he says "As long as you don't touch the books on the top shelf" I look at the shelf of various books next to his fireplace, walking up to choose one. I like to read romance and fantasy, but Alastor as romantic as people say he is, doesn't collect those types of novels. he likes books that are mostly nonfiction.

I ended up choosing a book that wasn't too thick just enough to pass the time and left the room, heading to the kitchen to drop off the plate. on my way there I see something rush from the corner of my eyes but when I look around there's nothing there, that was until I turn back to keep walking. I ended up running right through Alastors shadow, A cold chill running up my spine from its solvent body.

I quickly regain composure, making sure to not drop the plate in my hands "Oh for all that is unholy, you scared me!" I said looking at the shadow "Do you uhh... need something?" it cocks its head and smiles like I said the funniest thing in the world "ok... I guess not." I continue on to the kitchen, washing the dishes before heading upstairs to my room to read, all while having it follow me the entire time.

I walk into my room, kicking off my heels with a tired huff and I plop down on my bed "Are you going to stay here all day?" I say to the shadow that is currently looming around my room, snooping through drawers and various items. I should tell Alastor that there is something wrong with his shadow, but... I'm curious to see what it wants.

I decided to leave it alone since it's not causing much trouble, it's just exploring. I lay back on my bed against the headboard and opened the book to the first page, I only got to page 10 before the shadow poked its head through the book to look at me "Alastor will be mad if you're over here, I suggest you behave" it hovered over me with a frown and it felt almost illegal to see, Alastor never frowns and to see his shadow do it feels wrong "wait... I'm sorry I won't tell him you're here, promise" it doesn't smile but it's not frowning either, it just leans closer to me until I'm nose to nose with it.

it brought a hand to my face and to my surprise I could feel it, not just that cold feeling when it runs through you but its hand was well...there. not knowing what to do I just sat there watching as it caressed my cheek earning a blush from me. what is wrong with me, blushing at Alastors shadow, it's not even a real person, but it feels like it is "What is it you want...?" I say practically whispering.

the door opens startling me and making the shadow turn its head. Alastor stands at the door with a strained smile "Enough!" he says, his voice laced with static. the shadow frowns and retreats behind Alastor "Apologies my dear, it has a mind of its own..." he said through gritted teeth, shooting the shadow a glare "I-it's ok it didn't do anything bad-" "This will never happen again, I will make sure of it." he says in a harsh tone. I opened my mouth to say something but quickly shut it, not wanting to aggravate the situation more.

"Alright..." I say and he turns on his heel to walk back to his room, the shadow looks back at me one more time before it follows Alastor down the hallway. I feel almost sorry for it, even though it's not technically its own person it's still capable of feelings... Alastors feelings. but it makes me wonder, if that shadow is a part of Alastor, emotions, thoughts and all, what was it doing? Why was it following me? and why was Alastor so angry...

there was a loud thud downstairs and I slid off my bed, put my shoes on, and walked downstairs. Charlie had returned but she looked pretty upset "Charlie, how did it go with Angel?" "I messed up, I- I made him angry at me and-" vaggie walks up to her rubbing her back "Hay it's okay, maybe he didn't mean it!" Charlie bursts out in tears and vaggie whisks her away to comfort her.

Husk scoffs from the bar and I scowl at him "Don't be like that!" he growls and takes a swig from his bottle "She's too soft for her own good" I sigh and walk over to take a seat on a stool "a lot like you, showing kindness to other who don't deserve it" "is it so bad that I don't want to be like any other person in this horrible place!" he raises a brow at my sudden outburst "what's on your mind..?" "there's nothi-" "yes there is, your frustrated."

I stare at the counter thinking about my next few words before I speak "Do you think Alastor hates me?" I feel stupid for asking such a thing, but Husk doesn't question it "I doubt that creep likes anyone but himself" I frown and he seems to notice because of what he says next "But I wouldn't be surprised if he did like you" I throw him a puzzled look "why do you think that?" "tch, haven't you ever questioned why Alastor made you his wife" he was right, Alastor was an overlord, if he needed somebody to prepare his meals and clean his house he could just...buy a maid.

"no, I- I haven't..." When Alastor and I first discussed our contract, he said that he and my ex-husband would trade places, me being married to Alastor in exchange for complete devotion to him...and my soul. in the 1950s it was looked down on to divorce your husband or divorce at all, and now that I looked back at it I didn't care about my reputation enough not to get a divorce. but I was desperate for an escape, and desperation makes you do stupid things.

"if he didn't tolerate you, he wouldn't have married you, it's one of the weirdest contracts I ever saw but I wouldn't pry into it too much, just know you're the last person on his shit list" I nod but that doesn't explain why he was so angry, was he even angry at me? suddenly the door to the hotel opens and Angel walks over looking spent.

he plops down on the stool down from me and asks for the strongest drink Husk can make "Excuse me, didn't think this was a drink to forget kinda night" Angel and Husk end up fighting about Angels "acting" resulting in Angel throwing a bottle. I stand away and steer clear of the glass shards before watching Angel storm off "Angel wait..." he pushes past vaggie and out the door. vaggie tells Husk to go after him and Charlie leaves to go make "100 apology letters."

eventually, Husk returns with Angel, laughing and talking while being dirtied and damaged. Charlie rushes over to Angel and apologizes over 50 times before he reassures her "He he he he he said HE FORGAVE ME!!!" Charlie says in tears while vaggie carries her back to their room. I quickly run up to Angel checking up on him "Angel!! are you ok you- you're covered in blood."

"ahh don't worry tuts, I'm alright" I breathe a sigh of relief, thankful that Angel isn't hurt "Come on, let's go get a drink" "Oh angel I don't-" "I won't make you anything strong, Alastor would kill me if I did" I hesitate but agree "Ok, but just for a little while..."

so sorry this came out late but here it is!! chapter 5!!! I got writer's block halfway through but still managed to make it work. I will be gone for the weekend to Knots Berry Farm for a family trip so expect chapter 6 to be a little late. and with that have a wonderful day/night love you all!!!

-squerlly

@kimmis-stuff @pooplyface1423 @strippezzz

#hazbin #alastor #alastor x reader #hazbin alastor x reader #hazbin hotel x you #alastor x reader smut #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x y/n #hazbin hotel

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literaila · 15 hours

Note

Hey, I don’t know what you make of love triangles but I’ve always wondered how Typical Family would look like if reader once had a “not so obvious” crush on Geto and the two almost looked like a couple except Geto only saw her as a friend and Satoru doesn’t actually start to “see” reader until he sees how broken up she is after Geto’s betrayal. Kind of looks like the thing between Sasuke/Sakura/Naruto (ahem Except Sakura takes the less toxic path). You don’t have to indulge in this nor does it have to be canon to your original story but I’m just curious 🌚

now i dont think satoru was ever jealous of suguru because 1. suguru is all-knowing and 2. suguru is a literal big brother to you and there is only platonic admiration there.

but. you know who satoru is jealous of? nanami kento.

okay, there’s really no arguing—the boy needs a haircut.

he also needs to stop letting you hang off of him, and taking you out to dinner (because you find his interest in food a bit bizarre, and funny), and making you laugh all of the goddamn time.

satoru may be the strongest, the prettiest—but he has the disadvantage of being older than you. it’s not often yaga sends the two of you somewhere together—or any of the first years with the seconds.

and it’s just not fair, okay?

the only reason you even train with satoru is because he’s the only person who can see your technique, the only one who has a fair fight.

in fact, the only reason satoru gets to hang out with you at all is because you like everyone else. your classmates like suguru and shoko—and tolerate satoru.

and maybe it leaves a bitter taste in his mouth when he sees you standing a little bit too close to nanami. maybe it makes him feel like his world could collapse—disappear—right in front of him.

he does not want to endure being subjected to your schoolgirl crush on a boy who can’t even be bothered to cut his hair. and what would you see in him anyway? are brown eyes preferable to his outer-worldly blue ones? is satoru’s hair just not yellow enough?

…is nanami your type?

all of this to say, it’s definitely not satoru’s fault that he just accidentally threw nanami across the courtyard.

it’s the boys fault, obviously, for daring you to wish him good luck, for saying something so funny before they began that his smug face is still so pleased from making you laugh.

it’s not satoru’s fault.

but he does realize his mistake when instead of aweing over him like he’d wanted—you rush to nanami.

satoru is standing there, a rare frown on his face, looking down at his hands like they’re going to give him some answers.

“are you taking your anger out on the first years, now?” suguru asks, dryly, looking over to where you’re checking nanami’s pupillary response.

“don’t know what you’re talking about,” satoru grumbles, feeling even more betrayed.

what does that kid offer than he can’t?

“you know you could just talk to her, right? you don’t need to beat nanami up to prove a point.”

“if he wasn’t so weak i wouldn’t have—“

and then you’re walking back to them, nanami’s arm slung over your back as you half carry him. his face is already puffing up. “where’s shoko?”

you give him a look with unbridled rage. satoru can already feel the scolding coming on.

“i think she had a meeting with yaga, or something,” satoru answers, giving you his best innocent look.

it does nothing.

suguru inspects nanami. “do you need help?”

“no,” you frown at the boy hanging on you and sigh. “i’m taking him to the infirmary. i don’t know where yu went, but if you see him will you tell him that we left?”

“sure.”

suguru nudges satoru. “uh, yeah. we’ll tell him.”

you nod sternly at them both. “thank you.”

and then you’re walking away, even closer to nanami than you were before.

satoru is already pouting. it doesn’t take much.

“you’re stupid, you know that?”

“he asked me to—!”

“he wanted to learn. not get a concussion for no reason.”

satoru waves a hand. “he wont even remember it tomorrow.”

suguru is smirking at him, looking like he knows something that satoru doesn’t. “because he has brain damage?”

“because shoko will heal him.”

suguru only shakes his head. “i’m going to find haibara. he probably got lost again.”

satoru nods but remains there, with his arms crossed.

seriously, nanami kento of all people?

meanwhile, you’re lugging kento up onto one of the tables in the infirmary, feeling like you should’ve forced gojo to carry him the whole way.

you would’ve—if the sight of him didn’t make you want to rip your hair out.

…for a multitude of reasons, of course.

“okay. you okay? how’s your head?”

“bruised.”

you snort, pushing his hair back so you can see the black eye that’s already developing. at least it won’t get the chance to turn purple, you think.

“i’m sorry. i don’t know why gojo did that.”

kento laughs, leaning again away from your hand. you wonder if it’s his possible concussion, or if what you said was really all that funny.

you’ve only gotten him to laugh like… three times.

“you can tell him that i’m not interested in stealing you away.”

“gojo?”

he nods.

“why would i tell him that?”

nanami’s eyes closed. he looks like he’s aged years in the last hour. “are you naturally ignorant, or are you trying to distract me?”

you cross your arms. “what do you mean?”

“whatever’s going on between you and that white haired freak, just leave me out of it.”

“going on? there’s nothing going on. gojo is just an idiot—“

“seems like it’s spreading.”

“are you sure you’re okay, ken? i think you’re going crazy.”

nanami sighs. you can practically see his eyes rolling under his eyelids. “where’s shoko?”

you look around, biting your lip. “i don’t know… i thought she’d be here by now. i’ll go check the classrooms.”

he nods.

“don’t fall asleep, okay? i mean it.”

“just hurry.”

and you turn around the door, more questions running through your head than when you walked in.

satoru is still standing there, contemplating his life choices (of which there have been few) when you’re running back across the courtyard.

but you slow as you near him, your eyes filled with intent.

and maybe he was waiting for this.

“you asshole,” you say, hitting him on the shoulder—which he allows because any moment of you touching him is one that satoru wants to savor. “what were you thinking?”

he stands there, completely still, for just a moment more. you’re here now. with him. who’s with nanami then?

still, he shrugs. “i just forgot how weak he was.”

“oh, you forgot? you forgot that it was training and kento isn’t some special grade curse you—“

“is he dead?”

“what? why would you say that?”

“if he was really a special grade curse he’d already be dead.”

“you’re so arrogant,” you grind out, shaking your head at him. “and reckless! kento probably has a concussion.”

“then why aren’t you looking after him?”

“i—what?”

“why are you here yelling at me,” satoru gestures to himself, a grin forming on his face. “instead of making sure that he’s okay?”

“i—“ your mouth opens. then closes. “i went to go look for shoko and i didn’t think that you…” you shake your head again, frowning.

satoru just smiles at you.

he likes you a bit flushed and angry anyway.

“stop smiling at me like that!”

“what? i’m not allowed to smile now?”

“no. after today you’re not allowed to do anything. you’re lucky i’m such a good person or else you’d be six feet under—“

“you expect me to believe that you would actually kill me?”

“if i didn’t have a moral obligation, yes.”

satoru laughs.

“shut up,” you say, hitting him again. “i’m angry enough that i could do it.”

he shakes his head, slinging his arm around your shoulder. he has to make up for all of the time that nanami got to cling to you—has to repossess this, or he might go insane.

“that’s not why i’m laughing.”

“get off of me.”

“you wouldn’t kill me,” satoru whispers, right in your ear, delighting in a shiver that you can’t hold back. “even if you could. you like me too much to do it.”

you push him off of you, scowling. “i do not like you—“ you insist, only slightly breathless. “you just beat up my friend for no reason.”

“friend?”

you scoff, crossing your arms and looking up at satoru like he’s a demon sent straight from hell—just to torment you.

have you ever looked at nanami like that?

no, satoru thinks, you haven’t.

“yes, friend,” you repeat, rolling your eyes, “i know you’re unfamiliar with the concept but really. why is everyone acting so weird today?”

satoru’s grin is almost blinding. there’s no one else you get so worked up over. no one else who you would pause just to yell at.

“c’mon,” he says, instead of answering. he pushes himself back onto you, pulling you close by your waist. “i’ll look for shoko with you. you can tell me about how much you like me on the way.”

“gojo satoru, i will still murder you—“

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notgeetoe · 21 hours

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one date | gojo satoru

the summer of july. The sun was out, and so were you, strolling the park with your best friend, geto. He snorted.

“Gojo keeps asking me to give your number to him. He’s getting kind of desperate now.”

You rolled your eyes, scoffing. “Man, does he ever stop. I’m not gonna be another one of his conquests.”

Geto swallowed, scratching his head awkwardly. “Erm, about that…” you looked at him, an eyebrow raised.

“I think he’s different this time.” He said, his eyebrows furrowed. You laughed dryly, looking at him.

“Wait- you’re not joking?”

Geto rolled his eyes. “Okay, please just go out with him once. I’ll buy you an ice cream. I’m tired of his begging.”

You grumbled, snatching his wallet as you walked to the ice cream shop.

“This is the last time im doing anything for you. Consider this a favour”

————————————————————————————

You checked your phone for the umpteenth time, the café’s bustling energy doing little to calm your nerves. You couldn’t believe you had agreed to this—meeting Gojo Satoru for a date. Sure, he was handsome and undeniably charming, but she had heard the stories. you knew his fuckboy reputation.

“Late, as usual,” you muttered under your breath, glancing at the door.

Right on cue, the café’s door swung open, and in strolled Gojo Satoru. His bright, almost otherworldly blue eyes, hidden behind his signature sunglasses, scanned the room. The moment he spotted you, a broad, confident grin spread across his face.

“Hey gorgeous” he called out, making his way toward her with long, casual strides. “Sorry, I’m late. There was a little…situation I had to handle.”

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest. “A situation, huh? Do you expect me to believe that?”

Gojo chuckled, pulling out the chair across from you and sitting down. “Would you prefer I say I got caught up admiring my own reflection?”

You couldn’t help but smirk at that. “That’s more believable.”

He laughed, the sound warm and genuine, catching you off guard. “Touché. Anyway, I’m here now. What are we drinking?”

You hesitated for a moment, then sighed. “I already ordered. Just a latte for me.”

“Perfect.” Gojo waved the waiter over and ordered an espresso. As you waited, he leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand, and gave you his full attention. “So, tell me, why did you agree to this date if you’re clearly not interested?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Why do you think?”

“Because you’re intrigued,” he said simply, his smile never wavering. “Admit it, there’s a part of you that’s curious about me.”

you opened your mouth to deny it but found yourself closing it again. Instead, you took a sip of your latte, avoiding his gaze. “Maybe. Or maybe I got bribed with and ice cream and just wanted to see if you could actually hold a conversation that wasn’t all about you.”

He laughed again, a sound that seemed to brighten the room. “Fair enough. How about this? Let’s make a deal. If I can go the whole evening without talking about myself, you’ll agree to a second date.”

You narrowed your eyes, contemplating the challenge. “And if you fail?”

“Then I leave you alone,” he said with a playful wink. “Deal?”

“Deal.”

——————————————

You couldn't help but laugh as you watched Gojo struggle with the roller skates. You had decided on a retro-themed roller rink for your second date, a suggestion from Gojo that had sounded both fun and disastrous.

"Are you sure you know how to do this?" You asked, skating backward effortlessly while he wobbled in place.

"Absolutely," Gojo replied with a determined nod. "It's just been…a few years."

"Uh-huh, a few years," you teased. "More like a few lifetimes, Grandpa."

He attempted a graceful glide forward, only to flail wildly and crash into a nearby wall. The impact sent him tumbling to the floor in a heap of flailing limbs. You giggled, skating over to him.

Gojo, undeterred, grinned up at you from the floor. "Glad I could amuse you. Maybe you can give me a hand?"

Still chuckling, you skated over and offered your hand. He took it, only to have him pull you down with him. You landed in a tangled heap, snickering even harder.

Gojo grinned, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Looks like you just fell for me"

"Oh, please," you groaned, playfully shoving him. "You're terrible."

"Terribly charming," he corrected, standing up and helping her to her feet.

"I gotta admit, pretending to suck just so i can feel you near me has got to be one of my most genius plans" He grinned, suddenly skating expertly.

You rolled your eyes, biting back a smile as you both walked over to the drinks bar, the breeze whipping back your hair.

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scoonsalicious · 2 days

Text

7.2 Bucky*

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: Lily McIntyre, trainer for new SHIELD recruits at the Avengers Tower, has been in love with her best friend, Bucky Barnes, from the moment she met him. She's been content with her role of the #1 girl in Bucky's life, even if it means she has to sabotage a romantic relationship or two. It'll be worth it when he realizes that they're meant for each other, right? There's just one small problem: Lily McIntire never expected Bucky Barnes to fall for You.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, Explicit Sexual Content Minors: GTFO; I don’t serve your kind here (oral (m receiving)).

Word Count: 1.3k

Previously On...: Bucky surprised you with a night-time picnic. You exchanged dog tags, and now things have taken a sexy turn.

A/N: Fair warning, this and the next two sections are smut! Hurray!

If you ever feel so inclined to support my work, hop on over to buy me a coffee; it's much appreciated! <3

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

Bucky Barnes was convinced in that moment he’d died and gone to heaven. How else could he explain the sight before him? Major, on her knees, completely naked in the middle of the woods, save for his dog tags around her neck, body glowing under the candlelight of the lanterns as she palmed his aching erection through his jeans, telling him how much she wanted it down her throat.

But Bucky knew that a man who carried as many sins on his back as he did had no hope of finding paradise in the afterlife, so this could only be the real thing. He watched with mouth hanging open as Major crawled up his body, undoing his belt and unbuttoning his pants. “Help a girl out and lift your hips, Sergeant?” she asked him with a smirk.

Bucky let out a low groan as he obliged, lifting his hips from the blanket so Major could pull his pants off his legs. Once she’d removed them, she tossed them aside atop her own pile of discarded clothes.

“Mmm,” she hummed, “you sure look pretty, Sarge. Let’s get that shirt off.” Bucky made a move to reach for the hem of his shirt, but Major tutted him. “Let me take care of you tonight,” she said. “You always do such a good job of making me feel good; I want to return the favor.” Her hands reached to his waist, dragging his shirt up and over his torso, then his head, and Bucky thought he was going to cum on the spot. He’d never been with a woman so… enthusiastic? Insatiable? Commanding? All of the above, he thought.

Once she had his shirt off, she leaned back on her haunches and studied him, licking her lips as she took him in. “I just want you to lay back and let me do all the work, okay?” she asked him.

Bucky found he couldn’t speak through the lump in his throat but did as Major asked, leaning back on his elbows so he could watch her. She locked eyes with him, and he expected her to take his briefs off of him the way she had his pants, but instead, she leaned down and began to nuzzle his cock with her cheek through the fabric.

He sucked in a breath as she drew her nose along his clothed length. As he grew harder, she began sucking open-mouthed kisses against him. While Bucky couldn’t wait to feel her warm mouth against his sensitive skin, the friction the fabric was providing as she worked on him was divine.

“Fuck, sugar,” he grunted as her palm rolled over him. The gray fabric of his boxer briefs was already dark with precum, but Major added to the growing wet patch with her saliva. “If I don’t get these off soon, it’s gonna be the second pair I’ve ruined because of you in two days.”

Major laughed, her mouth so close to Bucky’s groin, he could feel the vibration of it in dick. “Wouldn’t want that,” she said teasingly. “No washer and dryer out here in the woods. Though, I suppose you could rinse them out in the stream and I could fuck you until they’re dry.”

“You kiss your mother with that mouth?” Bucky asked, his laugh turning into a gasp as Major rolled his boxer briefs down his hips, setting his erection free.

“Nope, just this fat cock,” Major said, winking at him. Once she’d slid his underwear down to his knees, she leaned forward and gave his cockhead a featherlight kiss. Bucky grunted and arched his back. Who knew the softest of touches could feel so fucking good?

Major licked a long, slow stripe along the underside of Bucky’s cock from the base to the tip, and Bucky nearly came right then. He tried to think of any and everything he could come up with to stave off his orgasm as Major took him fully into her mouth.

He settled on the 1941 Brooklyn Dodgers.

Major’s tongue around his tip, dancing over its weeping slit and Bucky bent his knees to brace himself against the ground…

Winning the Pennant for the first time in 21 years over the Cardinals.

Her cheeks hollowing as her mouth tightened around him, enveloping him in her warm heat…

Losing the World Series to the goddamn Yankees, 3 to 1 in the fifth and final game.

Her tongue sliding along the underside of his cock as her head began to bob back and forth, taking him deeper and deeper with each thrust.

Higbe and Wyatt pitching their best seasons.

The feeling of her nose brushing up against the curly hairs of his pubic bone…

Eight hundred runs, the highest in the league and – Jesus fucking Christ, was she actually swallowing around him?!

It was too much. Despite his best efforts, everything she was doing to him felt too wonderful, too euphoric for him to continue to think straight, let alone try and hold back. “Fuck, sugar, pull off; ‘m gonna cum,” he grunted, but Major didn’t retreat. If anything, her eyes took on a sardonic look and she gripped his thighs tighter and began moving her head faster than she had before. God, Bucky thought as he watched her from between his legs, she looked a vision, the way she was devouring him. With her eyes locked on his, and the flickering shadows dancing in the candlelight, she looked like something out of ancient myth, a goddess of fire and lust, of darkness and passion. And he was a willing sacrifice to her alter.

The candlelight reflecting off the silver tag around her neck that bore his name. Of all the mere mortals that roamed the planet, Major had selected Bucky Barnes to bestow upon him the honor of seeing her, like this, in all of her divine glory.

With a grunt that bordered on a growl, Bucky came at that thought– the thought that someone like her felt that he, of all people, was worthy. He could feel seemingly never-ending ropes of his cum spurt from his cock, and he was fully expecting Major to pull away– none of the other girls he had ever been with could seem to withstand the amount of cum the serum led him to produce, but Major? Major continued to suck him like he was a straw, as though she were trying to draw every ounce of cum out of Bucky’s balls and take it down her throat. And by the gleam in her eye, she seemed to actually be enjoying it.

After what felt like the longest orgasm of Bucky’s very long life, he finally stopped, his cock beyond sensitive. Bucky’s elbows gave out and he fell onto his back, gasping for breath. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d cum that hard. Gently, Major slid herself off of him. She wiped at her mouth gently with a hand, then moved to grab one of the extra blankets Bucky had brought for their picnic. She carefully draped it over him, then crawled up alongside his body to mold herself along his length.

“Are you okay?” she asked, tracing a gentle finger along the line of his jaw.

Bucky sucked in a gulp of air before turning to face her. “You…” he began, not even sure where he was going with his thought, he was so lost in the post-orgasmic fog of his brain, “you are fucking magic.”

Major pressed her forehead against Bucky’s shoulder and snickered. “If you say so,” she told him.

“I do say so,” Bucky said, still trying to catch his breath. “I just need a minute.”

“Take your time,” Major said. “I’m not going anywhere.”

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #james bucky buchanan barnes #james buchanan barnes #mcu bucky barnes #james barnes

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allguysshouldgrow · 2 days

Text

The Scale

hey y'all, this is my first attempt at a piece of somewhat longer fiction. if you like it, please comment/shoot me a message and encourage me to do more! hope you enjoy!

You get out of your car, slowly, pulling the fabric of your T-shirt down as a matter of habit, just to make sure you aren't giving anyone a peep show of the bottom 2 inches of your abdomen. It's unseasonably warm today - what should be the warmth of May feels more like the heat of July, and honestly, you hate it. You're out yardsaling today - looking for deals on the nerdy shit you collect, and whatever else you might find, and getting out and about fulfills your love for meeting new people.

"Hey there, how are you?" yells a guy from across the yard as you walk up the driveway. You respond with normal niceties as you begin to browse the wares. Tableclothes, baby clothes, adult clothes, glassware, an old coffee machine, nothing to exciting. You glance over at the guy a few times. He's in his late 30's, decently attractive face, but wearing a sweatshirt 2 sizes too big - you assume he must be hiding some sort of body he's embarrassed of. You both chit chat as you comtinue to browse, about the weather, about some of the stuff he's selling, about the upcoming storms that are supposed to roll in that afternoon.

As he's telling you about his experience with a lightning strike, you notice something that you don't see very often. A scale, but not a normal one, but one for the big boys, one that goes up to 600 lbs. You pick it up and examine it - it's obviously used and a bit dusty, but in good shape.

He chimes in, "It works, tested it this morming myself! Just want to move past that time of my life." You give him a look, obviously curious about what he means. "Yeah, I used to weigh 529 at my heaviest - that thing was the only thing that could tell me just how bad my problem had gotten. Lost over 250 poinds since then, and ready to get rid of it."

Suddenly the baggy sweatshirt makes sense, as does all of the men's clothing for sale. You start to get curious about what he looks like underneath the sweatshirt, but aren't stupid (or brave) enough to ask. For whatever reason, you tell him your honest reason for picking it up.

"Good for you, that's awesome! I get what you mean about it being hard to find - my bathroom scale has been reading 'ERR' for months, and I can't find an affordable option to replace it." You laugh as you give your gut a small slap, one that sends ripples throughout your body, more than you expected. "I think I maxed it out, one week it read 299.2, the next is was ERR. How much do you want for it?"

"I'll take 2 bucks man, I just want it gone." You fish out your wallet, and hand him the money. He hesitates for a minute, as if condiering saying something. Finally, he takes the money and opens his mouth to speak.

"How old are you?" He asks. You laugh semi-nervously, taken aback by the odd question. "25, why?" He hesitates again. "I was about your age when my weight started to get out of control. It felt like one day I was enjoying big meals and a lotta beer without a care in the world, and the next day I was having a hard time getting out of bed. I guess what I'm saying is.... be careful. Coming from a big guy, I know what big looks like, and you look to be a fair ways past 300. I don't want you to have the same struggles I did, being too fat to enjoy your prime years, spending more time eating than socializing. It doesn't feel good to be the guy that needs his in shape buddies to help him get off the couch."

You stand there a moment, staring at him. Something is stirring inside you, something you don't want to acknowledge. "I appreciate the advice man. Have a good day." You say, all in one breath, trying to leave the interaction as soon as possible. You run-walk back to your car, trying to ignore the jiggles, the sweat beading on your brow, the slight soreness in your legs. You get in the car and are finally forced to confront that feeling that swirled in you as he was speaking.

You lift up your gut slightly, and see what you were worried about - a small wet spot right over your crotch. The story the man told you, the... warning, had made you so aroused, you pre-came through your pants. You attempt to quickly rub one out to get rid of the thoughts in your head, but find that your underwear is too tight, and your belly too big.

After speeding home, you run into your apartmemt with the scale, feeling a mix of worry, excitment, fear, and worst of all, horniness. As you set down the scale to weigh yourself, you start jerking off, unable to wait any longer. Suddenly, a number blinks back at you.

343.6.

You cum. Harder than ever before. Longer than ever before. And without you realizing, a switch flips, somehwere deep inside of you. After cleaning up, you pick up your phone, and order McDonald's for delivery, and order twice your normal order. As you sit down, finally thinking clearly for the first time in an hour, one thought sits on the edge of your mind as you try to ignore it.

"What if I max out this scale too?"

#teasing #fat fiction #gainer story #gainer stories #gainer fiction #male weight gain #male wg #wg fiction #wg text

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beatrixstonehill2 · 3 days

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"I'm a bit nervous but still pretty excited. My parents always raised me to believe it's a woman's job to please her man no matter what. If your bf is into big tits, you better grow bigger boobs or get the biggest implants you can stuff into them! Is he into fat girls? You better pile on all the weight you can for him. My friend Marcy dated a guy who was really turned on by girls with no arms or legs. She didn't hesitate for a minute to pop into the nearest surgeon and ask to have her limbs removed, despite being a gymnastics coach. I always admired any girl with that level of dedication and would feel like a failure as a woman if I couldn't reach the same standard.....

So, when I met Josh four months ago, and on our first date he confided he had a fetish for girls who get so pregnant they pop, my heart skipped a beat! Maybe..... this was like my ultimate test to prove how devoted I am to pleasing men and being a proper, good girl? I consulted with my parents and they were shocked I even thought the need to get their blessing. Sure enough a day later and my bf tells my doctor to put me on Femruptarin. My doctor looked very pleased about this, telling him he was a very lucky man, and to expect me to blow up in seven to eight months and enjoy the show. That he better flaunt me and show me off the whole time I'm pregnant. He promised he would, and that this isn't his first rodeo with bursting a girl by a long shot. I'm his tenth..... The whole time my bf and doctor never addressed me directly or asked my permission. I was perfectly womanly, acted on as an object for others' pleasure and nothing more. Like how Marcy existed to become her bf's limbless, breeder sex slave I exist to burst like a balloon for Josh.

I'm technically only about three and a half months pregnant and look at the size of me! I'm as big as a house. My womb is stuffed to the bursting point already and I'm tiny compared to how big I'll be by the time I fulfill my womanly duties for Josh and pop. True to his word, Josh trots me around town dressed in ludicrously skimpy clothes, showing me off, offering my body to men, since my body is technically his to give out! He makes me perform the wildest sex acts in public and I have to admit it is a lot of fun, and I do climax quite a lot before the crowds of people that gather, but my pleasure is not what's important..... Even if it is amazing to be sprawled out naked before a huge crowd, serving five cocks at once, my puffy, swollen pussy brutalized so utterly I squirt like a fire hydrant across the paved walkways of the local park. I love to be ravaged and fucked so savagely by random men, it's so very thrilling, I feel blessed to become Josh's girlfriend, even if it'll only last another five or six months if we're lucky.

Then I'll put on my best show yet for my community, and pop in front of them all, my uterus at last tearing and giving way as I shower my offering of twenty-some kids before my watchful audience. Free gifts for them to raise into the future devoted girlfriends and wives of our fair town..... It's so fulfilling to serve such an incredible man like Josh and be given the opportunity to be used as the community's personal receptacle for pent up sexual aggression. I hope Josh's next girlfriend is just as eager to burst for him, and he gets to indulge his fantasies with many, many more girls after her! Bursting is such a true sign of devotion that I'm positively blessed to be given the chance to give my body to do it for a guy!"

#breeding k1nk #bursting kink #belly burst #morbid kink #dark kinks #belly expansion #belly popping

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yuukiiqwq · 14 hours

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My Love, My Light, My One and Only 🩵

"Hey, what got you looking so gloomy?" You look up as you heard a familiar voice call you. Sitting in front of you was Satoru looking all carefree like nothing has happened.

"You're an idiot," you say after staring at him for a while. "You're so annoying."

Satoru looked offended before he started to laugh. "That's the first thing you say to me after everything?"

"Shut your big mouth," you grumbled. How can he be so carefree when your heart is breaking for the second time? "I hate your voice, I hate your laugh, I hate your hair, I hate your eyes, I hate your smile, I hate everything about you."

Satoru opened his mouth to say something, but you didn't let him get a word in. "I hate how much I love you, how much I adore you, how much my heart aches for you. I hate your dazzling, beautiful eyes. I hate how fluffy and soft your hair looks. I hate how your laugh and smile make my heart skip a beat. I hate how much I desire you and just you."

Your vision was getting blurry, and you felt the tears streaming down your face, but you continued– "It's not fair. What was that stupid death of yours? You're so stupid! Don't you want to live? You should have stayed alive! I would rather the world burn down in flames if you just stayed alive. If you just stayed with me. I hate how much I love you."

Satoru stayed silent as you continued your endless amount of insult towards him, not saying a word until you finished.

"Do you regret it?" He asked, voice no higher than a whisper.

You looked at him, offended that he would even think that. "Regret? No, I don't." You mumbled to him. "I don't regret it. I never will."

A small smile dawns his face as he tells you– "I want you to be happy. Even without me. Because I'm not real. I'm just a fictional character on screen, a part of someone's imagination. A part of your imagination.

You shake your head at him. "You are real to me, Satoru. You may not be standing in front of me, but you are real to me. You've taken my heart and left a hole that can never be mended. No one can ever replace what you are to me." You look him in his bright dazzling blue eyes– "I'm not ready to let you go. I'm selfish, I'm greedy, I want you to stay with me. Even if you're happy with your end, I want you to stay. I don't want to let you go."

"You don't have to let me go. I live on in here," he points at where your heart is. "I'll always live on in there. If you don't forget, I'll always be there. Until the bitter end."

You chuckled at him and wiped away your tears. "Hey, Satoru?"

"Hm?" He hummed in response.

"You've always been just Satoru to me. Always will be. I love you. You are my love, my light, my one and only. I wish for you to continue smiling, laughing, forever being happy. To continue being the lovable you without anything shouldering you down. I love you for all of eternity. For an infinity."

His eyes widened at your declaration before softening. He doesn't say it back, but his eyes were shining, filled with adoration for your love to him and a soft smile on his lips.

Time was almost up, so you asked one last question. A question that means everything to you. "Are you happy now?"

And once again, he doesn't answer, but his expression speaks a million words. The last thing you see was his signature boyish, bright smile on his face before he disappeared, leaving you alone once more.

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johnwickb1tsch · 2 days

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Vino Veritas - Part II

A Destination Wedding Frank x Fem!Reader Fic part 1

Attending the wedding of your ex-fiancé gets slightly better when you meet someone having just as miserable a time as you... Warnings: Nothing too serious holy shit. Cursing. Broken engagement. Nihilism, existential bullshit, copious amounts of sarcasm. Eventual nsfw, not this chapter. Pretty much in line with the movie here.

II. The Interminable Fucking Car Ride

“So…what do you do?”

“I run the marketing department for JD Power.”

“The car trophy people?”

“That’s a magazine.”

“Ah. So you’re the grand architect of big corporate’s bid to tell us what to think while slyly taking all our money.”

He snorts. “Only those who are incapable of thinking for themselves. Somehow, that doesn’t seem to apply to you.”

If you squint, that almost felt like he was paying you a compliment.

“So, what do you do?” he asks in turn.

You don’t know why you’re almost embarrassed to tell him. “I run an art gallery/gift shop on the beach in Santa Bonita.”

He blinks, those lovely dark eyes fixed on you for a moment. “Of course you do.”

“What does that mean?”

He huffs a little. It almost sounds wistful, but then he frowns, utterly fucking ruining the moment. “You just look the type.”

You’re not sure why that stings…or why you even give a fuck.

The Fucking Rehearsal Dinner

“I’ve never really understood the point of the rehearsal dinner. Is eating so hard we really have to rehearse it?”

You sense an almost twitch of the corner of Frank’s mouth. They have stuck you together at a table in the far back. The black sheep who they felt they had to invite, but didn’t really want to.

“Not to miss the opportunity to make the groom’s parents spend unnecessary money too?” Frank offers.

“Fair to spread the misery, I guess.”

“Didn’t you sue Keith over this shit?”

“My parents did. They lost thirty thousand dollars in deposits.”

“Jesus fucking Christ. No one should spend that kind of money on a wedding.”

“Strangely, I agree with you now. I didn’t know any better at the time.” You’d been so young, you could hardly even fathom how much thirty-thousand dollars was.

Your parents had been happy at the time with the prospect of marrying you off to Keith. He’d been successful, charming, and outwardly doting on you. They never really thought you had much going on your own, so they probably thought he was the best you could do. The thought still hurts, more than it should.

“I mean,” you blurt, “Did you know who you are or what you wanted when you were 20?”

“Of course not.”

“He was my whole world. When he dumped me. It...it really fucked me up.” You don't know why you're admitting this to this near total stranger. There is just something about his forthright manner that demands honesty.

“Ah well, join the club. My father tried to shoot me once, if it makes you feel any better.”

You blink. “He tried to shoot you?”

“Yes. With a gun.”

“What did you do?”

“I ran at him.”

“You ran at him? Not away from him?”

“Yeah. Well, I was pissed off. He tried to shoot me again, but I got the gun away from him and hit him with it. Broke his orbital bone. He said I was the accumulation of all his bad decisions. He started to cry and begged me to kill him. I didn’t, only because I didn’t want to fuck my whole life up. The poor bastard jumped out the seventh floor the next day.”

Before you can stop yourself you reach out to place your hand on his on the table.

Before he can stop himself, his long fingers close around yours.

This connection endures for precisely 1.5 seconds before he shakes you off.

“I’m fine.”

“I don’t think your fine.”

“Fine, I’m all fucked up, but there’s nothing I can do about it.”

You sigh, sinking down in your chair, embarrassed. Why did you touch him? What were you thinking?

“I guess we’re in the club together,” you answer miserably.

You feel him looking at you out the corner of his eye. There is a weight to this man’s gaze. It’s not unpleasant, just…you feel as though he sees everything.

“I feel like we should get at least decoder rings or something,” he grumbles.

The bride and groom make their entrance, interrupting whatever acerbic thing you were going to say next. You watch as they make their way through the crowd, basking in the glow of being the center of attention. Keith always loved that shit. You hate to admit, that his bride to be is a solid stone cold foxy 10. The kind of woman that men will trip over themselves for as they walk down the street.

You weren’t bad looking but you’d never had that kind of power.

If you wanted to trip a man, you had to do the dirty work and actually stick out your foot.

“Oh, look at us, let us presume to inconvenience you with the ostentatious display of our love,” you mock quietly in a mousy little falsetto.

It actually makes Frank laugh. At least, you think it’s a laugh. Maybe it was indigestion.

He joins in, though forgoing the funny voice, “And we’re conceited enough to think we’re actually different from the rest of the human race, and our love will last forever and ever…”

You’re enjoying this malicious bit of fun, but there is something in the way that he says it that makes you pause. “You don’t think love can ever last?” you ask.

He snorts. “Well, he doesn’t. I heard the prenup she had to sign was brutal,” he tells you.

“Poor thing.”

“You really feel sorry for her?”

“Slightly?”

“Are you going to say hello?”

You sigh. “I guess I fucking better.”

You slowly make to stand, the chair screeching under you. “Give ‘em hell, kid.”

You flip Frank the bird as you go, and hear that peculiar strangled sound that must pass for his outward expression of mirth.

Dumb ass free shit you would never do on your own

"I spoke to the bride last night."

“Indeed?”

You’ve had pedicures before, but you’ve never sprung for a professional foot massage, and you have to admit it feels pretty good. It totally surprised you to find Frank there, but he’d informed you unashamedly that he can’t resist free shit. You find that amusing, considering he’s obviously comfortable, if not outright rich.

Maybe that’s how he stays that way.

“Yes, and she told me she doesn’t mind that you’re here, and she’s not threatened by you.”

You snort at that, taking a long sip of your iced latte.

“At least, I think she meant you. She’s dumb as a box of rocks, it was hard to tell who or what she was talking about at times.”

You sigh at hearing that. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were trying to soothe my feelings.”

It’s his turn to snort. “Merely reporting facts, I assure you. If you still feel badly about Keith and have not managed to move on to one of the other 8 billion people on this planet, then there is no helping you.”

“Is that your method for getting over a bad breakup?” He makes it sound so easy, you cannot help but roll your eyes at him.

“No, I have opted out of that shit show. It makes me uniquely qualified to offer comment on your own situation.”

You tilt you head in confusion, looking over at him. “You’ve…opted out of what? Dating? Romance? Marriage?”

“All of the above. It never ends well, as I have learned from watching my mother’s train wreck of a life as she blithely stumbled between marriages and boyfriends and suitors.”

“That’s so sad,” you blurt before you can stop yourself.

If you hadn’t already started to learn this man’s gestures, you would have missed the way he stiffened slightly, staring fixedly down at his feet.

“How many times have you been in love?” he asks.

You think about it, and regret the answer. “Just the once.” With Keith, the asshole. Any one who came after didn’t have much luck getting over the wall you built to protect yourself from another heartbreak.

He looks at you then, and you are pinned by those chocolate brown eyes, that for once seem earnest rather than annoyed. “What’s it like?”

The fact that this man, who is at least ten if not fifteen years your elder, is asking you tears your heart into little bits of confetti.

“It’s like going insane,” you answer truthfully, and he looks back down, frowning.

“I thought so.”

***

You are standing in your inflatable body bumpers together on the sidelines, declining to partake in this insane sport, content to watch the others attempt to inflict cervical injuries on themselves and others.

The question is eating at you, and you decide what the hell. What’s he going to do? Be mean to you?

“So, you’ve never been in love?”

“I don’t think so,” he answers, frowning, though it’s the same frown he’s been wearing for the past hour watching the idiots running around the field.

“Believe me, you would know.”

“Do insane people know they’re insane?”

“Ok, maybe that was a bad comparison. It’s…total surrender.”

“Wow, you’re really talking it up.”

“It is though. You have these special feelings for a person, and you just know whatever they do to you, it won’t matter, because you’ll still care for them.”

“It doesn’t matter, until it does matter.”

“Some people have higher tolerances for pain than others.”

“If you loved Keith you could probably take a Caesar-style stabbing without flinching.”

You’re not sure how exactly to respond to that.

“At any rate. I prefer to avoid pain rather than withstand it. My parents inflicted quite enough. No need to spread it around.”

“Alright, I get it that your parents sufficiently traumatized you, with the failed marriages and the…shooting thing. But doesn’t there come a point where you have to let it go and rise above it?”

“I don’t see any reason to.”

“Think about all your missing out on though.”

“What exactly is that?”

“You know…human connection. The things that make life worth living.”

“Jesus, are you sure you don’t work for Hallmark?”

“Positive.”

“I bet you sell rocks in your shop that have inspirational words carved in them.”

“Of course I do. The markup on those things is astronomical.”

You see him smirk out the corner of his eye.

“I bet you also sell little statues of big-eyed children slinging bible verses.”

“Ohhh, now those are fighting words, sir.” You bump him lightly with your inflatable tutu, making him shuffle a step. For a fleeting moment, you catch a hint of a smile, and it feels like a resounding victory.

Feeling bold, you fix him with an earnest stare. “You claim you’ve opted out of this mess. But what if you meet someone you really like?”

“Then I should probably run swiftly in the opposite direction,” he says, paying you a side-eyed look.

Five minutes later, he does quit the field, though he doesn’t quite run from it. You tell your self that it’s just a coincidence, and that he was just done standing in a polyvinyl orb in this heat.

But deep down…there is the tiniest kindling of something in your heart, and you know you should kick dirt over that shit and stomp on it.

You don’t, and you carry a ridiculous little light feeling with you as you return to the hotel.

It feels like you swallowed a butterfly.

#destination wedding #frank x you #frank x reader #frank x y/n #keanu reeves #keanuverse #keanuverse fic #keanu reeves x you #frank reeves x you #frank reeves x reader #vino veritas destination wedding fic #destination wedding frank x you

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things-arent-what-they-seem66 · 2 days

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I like angst.

Lucifer learns the heart breaking truth that Lilith lied about Adam. Lucifer had been in love with Adam, the plan of feeding the apple to Adam was actually in the process of planning out fully before Lilith was born as Lucifer wanted Adam to truly understand love. However he cruelly broke Adams heart after Lilith tells him that Adam was abusive and controlling, wanting to dominate Lilith.

Lilith later reveals the truth that Adam was actually frightened of her and avoided her. That the only time Adam was happy was when Lucifer came to visit him and while Lilith could see the two were in love, she wanted more then Eden, she wanted power and Lucifer was her only way out. She saw her chance and took it.

Lucifer: Then why lie? Why tell me Adam was hurting you? Was trying to control and dominate you when he wasn’t?

Lilith: You would have never left Eden otherwise. If Adam didn’t eat the apple, you wouldn’t have given it to me, you wouldn’t have helped me leave Eden.

Lucifer: so it was all a lie?

Lilith: I wanted power. Faking a live partnership between us gave me that.

Lucifer: Then why manipulate me into loving you?

Lilith: You made me the Queen of Hell. That position gave me everything I desired and more. Heaven trembles at the sound of my voice.

Lucifer, shaking his head: I need to talk Adam. I need to apologise and-

Lilith: I don’t think you understand how badly you’ve fucked up and hurt him. I was created as his wife, his equal and you took me away. Eve was his second wife, and you fucked her, feed her the apple and caused Adam to be kicked out of Eden. Adam had bent himself over backwards to keep humanity alive, he earned that spot in heaven whether people accept it or not.

Then as an Angel, he’s forced into the role of the leader of the exterminations, forces to kill all his grandchildren and descendants. All because you refused to talk with Sera after she rejected your little redemption plan. You were able to save Charlie from the exterminations but Adam wasn’t able to save Cain, hardly fair is it?

Lilith sighed: even I have to say that Adam was rather patient with our daughter. She’s very one sighted and ignores other factors. He sat there and listened to her during their first meeting but we both know Adam couldn’t give her the permission she wanted. Charlie’s clueless about Heaven and their rules.

Lucifer stunned: how do you know all this

Lilith smirking: I never wanted to torture Adam as you have. I only wanted more purpose and power, I never intended for him to be hurt so much.

Lucifer souring: you’re a lier and backstabbed

Lilith: takes one to know one, dear. Adam will never forgive you. Heavens refusing to let him come down to hell after what our brat did to him

- Adam never forgives Lucifer. Lucifer is grovelling on his Knees. Lilith returned to reclaim her crown.

OUCH MY FUCKING HEART 💔💔💔

Lucifer wouldn't let Lilith reclaim her spot as Queen of Hell now knowing the truth. She can stay in Hell if she wants but she will NEVER rule the land again.

It's not until Adam falls does Lucifer get the chance to attempt to apologize and make amends. And no, Adam never fully forgives him the pain seeded too deep.

Lucifer spends the rest of his afterlife trying to make it up to Adam.

#adamsapple #lucifer x adam #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel lucifer #ask #angst

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letters-from-dekarios · 2 days

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sunkissed hearts

chapter one: sandy and danny

summary: you’re starting a new college in europe in the fall and are taking all the time in the summer while in america to live your life to the fullest. while out at a bar one night, you meet a rather handsome man who gives you the best summer of your life. when you start college, your new english professor looks rather… familiar.

or: you spend a summer with gale, only for him to become your professor

word count: 3.8k

tags: college!au, professor!gale x f!reader, brief NSFW, MDNI, charas >20, mild language, themes of alcohol usage, theater kid!jen, artist!astarion, eventually other people will be there i promise

author’s note: i wasn’t intending for this to be a multi-part series, but it got so long & I didn’t want to rush the story, so this is going to be split into a few parts! i’d like to also note I don’t necessarily condone teacher/student relationships in most circumstances but… this fic fits the ones where you can go “okay that’s fair”. enjoy!

“Come on, one more bar!” You encouraged your friends. It was a Saturday night, the city was bustling with life. You were infused with the confidence of seven strippers on a Friday night and six shots of vodka— nothing was stopping you now.

The disapproving, tired looks from your friends begging you to give the night up and return home did nothing to deter you from pushing forward. But, alas, you were always the persistent type. Your whining droned on as you kept trying to persuade them.

“Just let me find a guy to go home with, okay? Then you guys can leave!” You urged them, and they begrudgingly agreed. Well, Jenevelle annoyedly agreed, Astarion was more than happy to keep going for the rest of the night, except he was sleep-deprived and just being a little jerk about it.

“Fine! But if you don’t find someone within the first hour, we’re leaving!” Jen yelled back as you practically skipped into the next bar you had on your list.

You had this idea in your head that the moment you left for college, you’d never be back to this town again. So, with that concept in mind, you aimed to complete your list of top things to do before you moved. This was one of your bucket list items- visit every bar in the city at least once and get a drink. You were making your way through the list pretty fast!

After entering, your friends separated from you, leaving you to walk up to the bar top and order your drink on your own. You started with something simple, a nice wine to get your evening going… even though you were halfway through it.

It wasn’t long before someone else was at your side, a good-looking man, no doubt. The conversation was idle and only lasted a few minutes before you were bored with him. He caught on to your exhaustion and gave up after a while, stumbling away into the rest of the crowd. Frustration brewed within you as you sat in silence conversations flitting around you and not with you. And then this smokey, woody scent stirred around you. You couldn’t tell if it was in your head or reality until you were greeted by a new man who sat beside you.

“Well you look awfully lonely, don't you?” The man joked, smiling at you as he ordered himself a whiskey- neat. You observed him, his features, and you contemplated if this was going to be your ride home tonight.

When he actually turned to you, and you looked at his face fully, you were certain he was the one. He had those eyes that just invited you into a warm hug, one you’d never want to let go of. His expressions were soft and comforting, bringing you a sense of calmness amidst the chaos around you. Even if only for a one-night stand, he would stay in your mind forever. You hadn't even been properly introduced yet, but the aura surrounding him gave way to opinions of him you would soon find as fact.

And he looked like he gave incredible head.

“Hello! The name’s Gale, might I ask yours?” He introduced, extending a hand towards you as he took a sip from his glass.

“Y/N,” you replied, shaking his hand. What kind of a man introduces himself at a bar and shakes your hand? Only a gentleman, you concluded. Okay, it was mostly the alcohol in your system talking, taking over your intuitions and ability to see any red flags, but gods did you want him.

And gods did you have him.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

“Fuck-”How late was it? You couldn’t tell anymore. Your concept of time had long since faded.

He was so goddamn good you just didn’t want it to stop. You kept begging for more, your body completely succumbing to his will. You moved in response to him and him alone, the noises of satisfaction leaving you fueling his desires. Your head tilted back into the silk sheets, your fingers clawing into his shoulders.

“Gods…” you heard him breathe out as he littered kisses down your bare chest. His hands roamed all along your curves, gently grabbing at you here and there, pulling your hips up to him, arching your back, sliding down your thighs… He knew his way around your body like he’d been with you for years.

You could feel the love and the care he put into it, which was an odd thing to think with a guy’s dick that you met mere hours ago in you.

Regardless, the feeling was true. You knew that he wasn’t one of those assholes who would toss you out right after he was done. No, he’d encourage you to stay- maybe even make you breakfast the next morning. He’d let you wear his shirt, even “accidentally” let you take it home. He’d leave his mark on you, and he’d do it with grace and respect. You had never had this with someone before.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

A little while later you were curled up at his side, your head against his bicep as you laid in bed with him. Your hand rested on his chest, tracing the tattoo he had there. You admired him, and he, you. You would let yourself indulge in this… for now. For as long as you could before you’d move away.

“Tell me…” Gale’s sweet, honey-like voice broke the quiet barrier between you two. “You’re much too kind and much too beautiful to be on your own. Are you sure you don’t have anyone special waiting for you back home?” He asked, and though you’d already answered “no” once, this time the question felt different. His thumb rubbed against your shoulder, his arm pulled you in, and you felt safe there, with him. Like you could tell him all your darkest secrets, and he’d listen to them all with no judgement.

“I’m sure,” you answered, looking up at him. You were still so mesmerized by him.

“How long are you here for?”

“Three more months, then I move away.”

“Hm.”

A hush fell between you as his eyes flitted to the ceiling, pondering over your response. You had no idea what he was to say next, but you’d answer wholeheartedly to whatever it was.

“Perhaps you’d like to spend some of that time with me?” He suggested, bringing his eyes back down to you.

This piqued your interest. What could that mean? You had seen from his lavish apartment that he was on the more comfortable side of life, was he willing to share that with you? Was he willing to make your summer memorable?

“Depends on what you mean by that..” you raised an eyebrow, shifting so you sat up. You moved on top of him, straddling his waist as he replied to you.

“You talked about making the most of this summer. You have a bucket list, right?” You nodded your head. “I’d like to help with that if you’d let me,” he offered, placing his hands at your sides.

“Oh? And what do you get in exchange for helping me fuel my crazy plans?” You asked, leaning down towards his face.

“Good company every once in a while. I’d like to hear about your adventures- maybe even partake in a few…” he trailed off, letting your mind wander to what he meant.

“So… you’d be my sugar daddy?”

He laughed, a deep laugh from the abdomen. His eyes squinted, his nose scrunched up, he shook his head… he was so pretty when he laughed.

“In a manner of speaking, you could call it that. I’d rather not, however.”

“You are technically older than me,” you pointed out. Though it was only by, what, ten years? Barely even that.

“Don’t say that! That makes it sound bad!”

“Ooooh… look at you, going after younger women…” you gasped, holding a hand to your chest dramatically. You fanned yourself, shaking your head and tsking disapprovingly at him. He broke your dramatics by flipping you into your back, hovering over you with a faux-stern look in his eye. Giggles broke from you as you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him down to you.

“Maybe I’ll take back my offer, then,” he threatened jokingly, returning your tsks.

“No, don’t do that…” you pouted, he couldn’t help but kiss you. You returned it, obviously, running a hand through his hair and tugging him closer. You had him already and yet you wanted more.

“I’ll take this as a yes, then?” He mumbled against your lips, trailing them down your jawline and to your neck.

“Yes.” You could barely breathe it out as he distracted your mind with his kisses, his soft hum against your skin an acknowledgment of your response. The night slowly faded away after that, his affection becoming a blur until you finally drifted off to sleep.

You were right, you found out, he was the type to make you breakfast the morning after. Though he didn’t stay, he left a sweet note for you apologizing for not being able to enjoy the morning with you. He even left you cash. Oh, hell yeah, you were doing this.

After enjoying your breakfast, you took down the phone number he had left you, sent him a sweet message, got yourself ready with all the things he had in his apartment (because who wouldn’t?) and went back to your home.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

“You will never guess who I met,” you started as you entered through the doorway, dropping your shoes down.

“Henry the eighth?” Jen replied, not bothering to look up from the book she was currently invested in. Theater kids- you despised them at times.

“Gods no, I’d lose my head in two seconds flat,” you snorted, jumping over the couch and landing next to her.

“I don’t know then, who?” She asked, placing a finger in her book and shutting it.

“You remember that guy I went home with last night?”

“The librarian looking dude?”

Astarion came out from his room quickly, running out to join in the conversation. “Is she talking about the one who looked like that Hozier song’s lyrics?”

Jen nodded at him, and you rolled your eyes before continuing. “He was hot! You guys are just mean. Anyways- he took me home, best sex of my life by the way, and guess who has…” you paused dramatically, digging into your bra for the cash he had left you, holding up the wad with a grin on your face, “their very own sugar daddy! Just like I’d always dreamed of,” you sighed wistfully and then broke out in laughter as Jen and Astarion stared at you blankly.

“How old was this guy again?” Jen asked, raising an eyebrow while you swatted away Astarion’s greedy hands.

“Thirty-four— but he was so nice! He said he wanted to aid me in my summer bucket list. He made me breakfast,” You frowned slightly, and they got the hint that you really liked this guy.

“So, basically, you were a prostitute, and now he’s going to hire you for the whole summer?” Astarion asked, making a cheeky face at you.

You grabbed a nearby pillow and threw it at him, groaning out. “It’s not like that! You guys are so judgemental!”

“Hey, I didn’t say anything,” Jen raised her hands defensively, but the look she shared with Astarion said more than it needed to.

“No, but you’re thinking it! That’s just as bad!” You threw a pillow at her, and then a fully-fledged pillow fight began in the small living room space. You were laughing then, sure, but a teenie part of you wondered really why he was doing this for you. Did he like you that much? Or was he just using you for your body— were you seriously becoming a prostitute? Gods, you hoped not.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

The next few weeks were normal, you’d tell Gale what you were up to, he’d send you some spending money, and you’d catch up with him later. Sometimes it’d be sex, sometimes he just wanted to hear about your day. You got the sense that, despite being so nice, he didn’t have many friends. At least, not any friends nearby, so you elected to keep him company whenever he needed. It became less and less of a business deal the more you got to know him.

A month into your little… transaction, he sent you an image of two tickets to Venice and the dates. You could’ve screamed right there, enthusiastically telling your companions about your upcoming trip. It was a short weekend, sure, but it was the most fun you’ve ever had.

He took you to a little restaurant, your table overlooking the water, one night. A single rose and a candle were placed between you two. It was fancy. You weren’t used to fancy, mostly because you never had the money for it. The only reason why you were moving was to take advantage of the international students program- that was pretty much a paid college ride.

Your parents weren’t exactly rich either, barely scraping by and living paycheck to paycheck when you were younger. The finer things in life consisted of a rare dinner out, usually pizza or Applebee’s, and the occasional gift or two that had a practical use for you. New shoes or a pencil case for school with your favorite character on it— you weren’t the spoiled type, all of this was new to you.

“Get whatever you’d like,” Gale told you, and your eyes hungrily scanned the menu. The prices caught your eye, and you bit the inside of your cheek. You knew he was generous, but some part of you felt awkward taking from him so bluntly like this.

“I think I’ll just get a salad or something…” you said warily, apprehensive about it all. Funny how you were hesitant now, and not when he bought you tickets to Venice. Ironic.

“Oh, please. Humor me, darling. Make my wallet hurt,” he grinned at you from across the table, and you laughed at the comment. Well, now that you had his permission…

“How much can I hurt it?” You asked curiously, eyeing a rather expensive meal on the menu.

“Hm… are you willing to make up the difference later if it’s more than expected?” He raised an eyebrow at you, his eyes still trained on the menu.

“When in… Venice,” you chimed back, adjusting the phrase to suit your location.

It was, in fact, more than he expected. But you were sure he’d say that regardless of what you ordered, and you didn’t mind the view of the sunset over Italy as he hit it from behind.

You laughed internally, both out of humor and pity for yourself. You had no idea how you were going to survive once the summer was over and you moved away, not once this whole thing broke off. But, hey, you could, and most definitely would, enjoy it while it lasted.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

The rest of the summer was spent similarly, going out and doing adventurous things with your friends, paid for by Gale. Sometimes he’d join you, or take you away on another short vacation and spoil you absolutely rotten with everything he could. You couldn’t be happier, and it felt good for him to use the money he had to help someone live their dreams before they had no free time left.

The end came faster than you did after your first night with him. Less crude analogy? How about, the summer ended faster than the bullet train you took in Tokyo where you’d spent a whole week with him.

You had told him in advance that it was your last week in the city, and he took the opportunity to pamper you more than ever. He got you a new laptop, headphones, brand new tablet… he wanted to make sure you were all set for your move. You half wondered if he was trying to get you to be his girlfriend- but that was a subject you two didn’t talk much about.

You realized in that final week that, actually, you didn’t know much about him at all. You knew he was an English Professor, he didn’t share where, though. You knew that he was young to be an English Professor… and that he had a cat, named Tara. Besides that, he was a phantom on the terrace threatening to leave you with the wounds of a lover when you finally moved on.

Despite your wanting to cling to him regardless of the time or day, you knew that it would have to end eventually. Even if you stayed in touch now and then, part of you wanted to leave all your dreams behind for him. You knew he wouldn’t let you do that.

The last night, before you moved out, was spent with him. He took you to dinner, indulged you, like usual, and then the rest of the night was… well, passionate to say the least. You savored every moment with him, and he, you. He took his time, caressing and kissing every inch of you. He memorized the way your body felt under his own, the way his hands fit perfectly at your bare waist, the way you moved in accordance with everything he did. You wished the fun would never end.

“Promise you won’t forget me…” you begged him, sticking to his side as you tried to make the night last longer.

“My love, with you I forget myself. I would never dream of letting these memories slip away from me. You are the object of all my intuitions, and you will forever be branded on my heart,” God, he was so poetic. You loved it. You loved him, but wouldn’t say it. This was a transaction, right? Now that it had been processed, you had to move on. Besides, you still barely knew anything about him. What was there to love other than the poet’s romantic words and the money in his pocket?

“I’m going to miss you,” you whispered to him, burying your face into his chest.

“Try not to.”

But you couldn’t try to not miss him. You couldn’t stop thinking about your summer with him, how adored he made you feel. You thought you’d never see him again.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

“If I had a nickel for every time you spent mourning over your summer with Gale, I’d be able to buy and sustain a cottage in the middle of nowhere,” Jenevelle remarked one day in your new apartment. You finally had things together and littered your space with pictures you’d taken of your time with him. Astarion had to stop you from crowding his space with those pictures, too.

“I’m not mourning anything. I just miss it,” you huffed, setting a photo down as you went back to packing your bag. “The sex was awesome.”

“I doubt he even remembers what you look like. It’s been months,” Astarion cackled.

It had been so long since you last saw him. When you left for college, you were supposed to start in the fall, but now it was practically winter. Between the stress of moving, and life being life, your start date was pushed out a few months longer than it was supposed to be. It didn’t help that your school lost your transfer papers, either, or that your student visa was delayed by a few weeks. Overall, your move was a mess, and you blamed it on leaving the handsome English professor in America. Maybe if you’d stayed…

“Don’t say that!” You whined, whacking him in the back of the head with some of your papers. “He remembers me. He still talks to me.”

“Yeah, he sends you money. That’s about it,” Jen pursed her lips together, shrugging at you. Okay, maybe she was a little bit right. But you were not about to admit that.

“Shut… shut up.”

“Exactly.”

You finished packing for the day and started to make yourself breakfast. You had calculated the route perfectly, you had plenty of time to get ready and enjoy some you-time before your morning class.

You didn’t estimate the giant accident on the way there, though. You practically had a mini heart attack trying to rush through traffic to get there, just barely making it on time. Lucky for you, the professor wasn’t there yet, either.

You squeezed into a seat near the back that was open, apologizing to your seatmates for being late. You pulled out your tablet and set up your notes as neatly as you could. By the end of the lecture you were sure they’d be all over the place, but you could at least try. Your peers beside you introduced themselves as Lae’zel and Wyll and you thanked them both for allowing you to sit between them.

You were nose-deep in your screen, perfecting the layout of your notes, that you didn’t even notice the professor walk in, the room becoming oddly silent.

“This guy is also on the board of directors, and he’s the head of the English department,” Wyll whispered to you. You looked up from your tablet, only seeing the professor’s back as he faced the board. At least your seatmates were kind enough to let you in on all the missing details. How useful that would be in the long run, you’d find out, but it was beneficial to know who you were dealing with.

“Welcome to Honors English 122. For all those new and old, we’re going to be covering a variety of subjects this semester…” his voice trailed off in your mind— you recognized it from somewhere. But where? It was hard to place, especially since he was so far away from you. You needed to see his face- that would solidify where you knew him from.

“I’m Professor Dakarios and I’ll be your guide through the wonderful world of the English language and its impact on our society,” You tried to place the last name, but failed. You were convinced you absolutely knew him, but had not a clue as to how. Oh well.

“Does he start every class like this?” You whispered to Wyll, who nodded solemnly. Was it an ego trip or excitement to have a class to himself? You’d uncover that, too, you supposed.

The professor clasped his hands behind his back, satisfied with the way his name had been written on the board, and turned to face the class. He beamed at the students in front of him, stepping around his desk and leaning against the edge of it. Your eyes narrowed, trying to see him clearly. Considering how large the lecture room was and how far away you were, it was a bit hard.

“It seems we’ve had a handful of new additions to the class this week. I’d like to take a small break from the usual lecture and get some introductions in,” he smiled again, folding his hands in his lap. “I’ll start— my first name is Gale, I’ve been teaching for about six years now, and I have a little feline at home named Tara- who, no, I cannot bring in to show you all.”

Holy. Shit.

“Who would like to go next?”

Holy. Fucking. Shit.

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ayquemepierdolanovela · 2 days

Text

More thoughts from me:

1. Ok, Jaime is obviously going to find Marta’s journal. The question is if the fact that she’s in love with a woman will be there. Maybe even Fina’s name.

2. I love how Fina could tell it was Marta coming in the shop and not a random customer. Did she identify the sound of her heels or was it her perfume? She, who pretended she didn’t know Marta’s favourite perfume a week ago. Fina, the lesbian that you are. 🤣

3. And the way their faces lit up just by looking at each other? 🥺 They are hurting but they are also deeply in love and life is just not fair and I hate everything 😭. Anyway, if Carmen hadn’t arrived, ~things would’ve happened, I’m sure.

4. A happy Fina being the thing Marta most wants in the world remains true. Fina told her she had a long life ahead of her and that she wanted to be happy, and what does Marta do? Ask Carmen to go with her to Madrid so as to put some more distance between and let Fina go.

5. What the fuck is going on in Jaime’s head? Her wife has told him time and time again that she can’t stand him, that he is the cause of her unhappiness, that he has taken everything she wants away from her, and he’s got the balls to go and tell her he wants a child? What’s wrong with you, man?

6. And last thing: is Jaime dying? Could it be true? 🤞🥳

#mafin

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vodika-vibes · 2 days

Note

hiiii! i would like to send in a request for your follower event please!!! i was thinking of a monster/ghost au where the reader (i’ll leave gender up to you i’m not picky lol) was a medic for the 501st and was dating echo but died. so the reader is now a ghost haunting echo after he joins the bad batch!! i’m not sure if i want echo (or even the bad batch + omega) to be able to see the reader so i’ll leave that up to you as well if that’s okay? it’ll be like a surprise!! but i do want this to have a happy ending if possible please!!

Oh Traveler Come

Summary: You’ve always been a practical person. Realistic. So when you’re killed in an attack on the Resolute you’re legitimately surprised to find yourself sticking around after death. It’s not the way your world is supposed to work. But, when you find yourself bound to Echo, Echo who you were dating before he died, you start to think that maybe there’s a reason for it.

Pairing: TBB Echo x F!Reader

Word Count: 1542

Warnings: Some angst

Prompt: Ghost/Monster AU

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: I wasn't sure, at first, how I was going to write this one, but I think I kind of like the idea that I came up with. Thanks for your request!

“What a hell hole,” You scrunch up your nose as you trail after Echo into the barracks of his new squad, “Honestly Echo,” You say to your boyfriend, former boyfriend, who you know can’t hear you, “You should bully them into cleaning more. This is a crime against me.”

Echo doesn’t respond. Of course he doesn’t. He can’t see you, though sometimes it feels like he can hear you.

Or maybe that’s just wishful thinking on your part.

You’re a ghost. You died in an attack on the Resolute. Well, to be more precise, you were killed by Ventress. At least, you’re pretty sure that’s what happened.

To be fair to yourself, you don’t actually remember dying.

But you’re a ghost, so you must have died. It’s the only logical conclusion.

For a time, you were attached to Fives, and then he died (and oh, isn’t that just infuriating? You know everything that Fives learned, but you can’t tell anyone-) and then you found yourself hovering over Echo.

You suppose it makes an odd sort of sense. You’ve always been closer to the domino twins than anyone else on the ship…well, outside of Kix. Although, you’re not disappointed that you’re not stuck haunting Kix.

Absently, you roll in the air so that you’re lounging on your back, you tuck your arms under your head and cross your legs. Being a ghost is weird. You can only travel so far away from Echo before you’re snapped back to his side, floating through walls still feels…weird. And you constantly feel like you’re spying on the boys.

Also, you don’t need to sleep anymore.

You shift when you hear a thunk, and you make a face when you see Hunter stripping his armor off. Time to make yourself scarce, just because they don’t know that they’re being haunted doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t allow them some privacy.

Sure, if you’ve seen one naked clone, you’ve seen them all. But still.

The only person you have any interest in seeing naked is Echo…and even then, not when he’s not aware that you’re watching.

You allow yourself to drift through the wall, and then sit up and cross your legs, lazily allowing your gaze to drift over the men walking through the hall.

What a lonely existence you’ve been cursed with.

Your hands find no purchase. Your gestures catch no eyes. And your pleas, whether they be whispered or screamed, reach not a single ear.

What horrific crime must you have committed to be cursed with this? It must have been truly awful-

“Hello?”

There’s no other explanation-

“Helloooo?”

This has to be a punishment-

“How are you floating?”

Wait, what?

Your gaze snaps to right in front of you. There’s a small child, a little blonde girl, standing in front of you, looking up at you through wide brown eyes. “...you can see me?”

“Yes, of course I can.”

“Gods,” You drop from the air until your kneeling in front of her, “How long has it been-”

She reaches out and presses her hands against your cheeks, and you’re surprised that she can touch you, “You’re cold.” The little girl says with a small frown, “Like touching ice.”

“I’m a ghost, little one.” You say through a choked laugh, “I have been for what feels like ages.”

“My name is Omega.” She says with a bright smile, “What’s your name?”

You blink the tears out of your eyes, as you introduce yourself.

“Would you like to come to my room with me? You must be so lonely.”

“I wish I could, but I’m bound to Echo.” You jab your thumb towards the door.

Omega looks from you, to the door, and then back to you. “He can’t see you?”

“Nope.”

“Or hear you?”

“Not at all.”

“That’s so sad!” Omega looks like she’s about to cry for a moment, and you flounder, unsure how to fix this, if this can be fixed. And then a look of determination crosses her face, “I’m going to help.”

“Are you?” You ask, bemused.

Omega steps around you and knocks on the door, loudly.

“They’re not going to believe you, kid.” You note as you take to the air again, folding your legs once more.

“I’ll make them.” Omega replies just before the door opens. Crosshair looks out the door, looking right through you, and then he glances down at Omega.

“...what?”

Omega lifts her chin, “I’m looking for Echo.”

Crosshair raises both of his brows, and then he turns to the side, “Echo, there’s a kid-hey!” He stares at Omega as she pushes into the room, and you, laughing quietly, trail after her.

“Um…which one is Echo?” Omega asks you, seemingly uncaring for the bemused, and bewildered, looks that were being aimed at her.

“The one with the prosthetics.” You say, amused, “They’re going to think you’re crazy, Omega.”

She frowns at you, and then turns to look at Echo, “But I’m not.”

“I know that, you know that. But ghosts aren’t supposed to be real, kid.”

“Then tell me something that will make them believe me.” Omega counters.

“Uh…kid? Who are you talking to?” Hunter asks slowly.

Omega says your name and you watch as Echo jerks, and something pained crosses his face. “She’s dead, you can’t be talking to her.” He says bluntly, and you’d almost believe that he didn’t care based on his tone, but there’s something so heartbroken on his face that your heart lurches painfully.

Omega stares at him for a moment, and then she points at you, “She’s right there. She says that she’s been following you for a while.”

Echo glances at you, or, well, at the spot where Omega says that you are, and the look of pain on his face only becomes more pronounced, “That’s…cruel, kid.”

“No, I-” Omega turns her gaze to you, “Help?”

You hesitate, and then you float over to Echo and lightly reach out, as if to touch him, though you stop before you actually manage it. “Tell him…I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to break my promise.”

Omega dutifully gives him your message, and Echo jerks in surprise.

“She’s…actually here?”

“Right in front of you. She’s crying.”

You laugh through your tears, “Don’t tell him that-”

“Sorry.” Omega says sheepishly, “She didn’t want me to tell you that.”

“Why can’t I see her? Or feel her?”

“I don’t think anyone can.” Omega says thoughtfully, “She said that I’m the first person to see her since she died.”

For a moment, Echo looks wrecked. But then, he knows better than anyone how much you hate being alone.

You pull away from Echo, and return to Omega’s side, kneeling so that you’re closer to eye level with her, “Omega. I need you to pass on a message, exactly as I say it. Can you do that?”

She turns to look at you, “I can do that.”

“Good. Good girl.” You breathe out, and then you start speaking.

You tell Echo, though Omega, about Fives. About what he learned, about what got him killed. Omega is shaking by the time you finish talking, horror and fear on her face.

“We need proof,” Echo says quietly, “Cyare, please tell me you have proof.”

Omega, her hands shaking, gives him your answer, “She says that the proof is in your heads.”

“Then we need to do something about this.” Hunter says, “Omega, can you be the go between for us and the ghost doctor?”

“Ghost doctor?” You repeat under your breath.

“You…believe me?” Omega asks, her eyes wide.

“It does explain why Echo always smells a little bit like ozone.” Hunter says with a shrug, “Come on, let’s get to the bottom of this.”

Half an hour later, Echo is hacking into a computer terminal when he stumbles on a file with your name on it. The file is a very detailed description of the attack on the Resolute, the attack that you thought killed you.

Turns out, Ventress didn’t kill you.

She used an ancient force ability to separate your soul from your body. According to the notes, you were meant to be bound to Ventress, as a weapon to be used against the Republic, only instead of being bound to Ventress, you ended up bound to Fives, and then Echo.

Your body is located on a small asteroid in wild space, kept in a deep coma to keep your soul wandering. Tech quickly makes note of the location, and then they go back to work at dealing with the chips.

A single line of code added to the chips software by Tech, as well as a forced update to thc chips, meant that Order 66 could never be activated by anyone. And if someone managed it, the new order was to protect all jedi, rather than kill them.

It would give the Jedi time enough to survive, if nothing else.

Then the Batch flees Kamino, with Omega. Intent on going to claim their doctor’s body, and then head to the Jedi temple in the hopes that they’ll be able to put you back in your body.

You and Echo will get your happy ending, you just have to fight for it.

And, really, isn’t that the case with all happy endings?

#star wars #tbb #star wars au #vodika vibes 650 event #tbb echo x reader #echo x reader #star wars fanfiction #x reader fanfiction #f!reader fic #answered asks

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